


Preferences

by AvengingAngel



Series: Lessons [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angel Wings, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley's Fall (Good Omens), Exploration, F/M, God Ships Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Oral Sex, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23621416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengingAngel/pseuds/AvengingAngel
Summary: Everyone has their preferences. It just takes a little experimenting to find yours.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Lessons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700311
Comments: 10
Kudos: 109





	Preferences

Crowley woke first.

He was usually the one waking to find Aziraphale already awake with his head in a book or daydreaming away, staring at the clouds. He’d wake and snuggle and eventually they’d get up and have breakfast.

The morning after, Crowley was the first one to wake.

Aziraphale was curled into him, his hands tucked between them, ankles entwined with his, eyelids fluttering as he dreamed.

The rain hadn’t eased any. Indeed, it sounded like the roof might be torn off through the strength of the winds, or maybe cave in under the sheer weight of water pouring down.

Crowley snuggled back down into Aziraphale’s warmth and let himself drift, lazily letting his mind wander.

Six thousand years. It was a long time to love someone. He remembered how worried Aziraphale had looked when he admitted he’d given away his sword, and how much he’d wanted to comfort him. It had been blatantly obvious to him in that first conversation that Aziraphale wasn’t like any of the other angels. He’d given away his sword. Given it away. He hadn’t questioned anything, hadn’t sought permission, knew he’d probably get into trouble for it. But he’d still done it. He’d decided all by himself what was the right thing to do and just…done it.

No other angel would have done that.

All that had happened between them over the years, all the changes they’d seen, and still he could be surprised. He’d never expected his love to be returned, reciprocated.

Aziraphale loved him. A demon, loved by an angel.

Maybe…just maybe, not certainly, just maybe. Maybe he wasn’t all bad.

Good enough to be allowed to touch a heavenly creature. To kiss him, to explore that pale creamy skin, to kiss and lick and touch. To sink into that incredible tight heat.

He must have loved him Before. True, Crowley had few memories of Before. He knew he’d been bad, disobeyed, and he’d needed to be punished. He’d broken the rules. Of these things he was certain. Exactly what had tipped God over the edge and made Her cast him out was something he wasn’t sure of.

But he couldn’t have been that bad, could he? He was allowed to love an angel. Must be something in him that was good.

“Quite a lot about you is good,” Aziraphale mumbled. “You’re talking to yourself again, my dear.”

“Bugger.”

He nuzzled into Crowley’s neck, sweeping a hand over his chest.

“Do you really not remember much? From Before?”

“Not really,” he admitted. “I sort of remember it being quite bright, and there was a lot of others around, you know. I know I disobeyed. Asked lots of questions I wasn’t supposed to ask.”

“Do you remember what you asked about?”

“No. Funny that. Not a single thing. I just know it was bad. And then…down I went.”

Aziraphale wriggled around so he could lean up on an elbow and look at him.

“Did…did it hurt?” he whispered.

“It did. But it didn’t last very long,” he soothed, stroking his back. Sometime in the night, both of them had tucked their wings away again. “Just…falling, you know. And then burning. My wings mostly. And my eyes. And there were a few seconds for my corporation, where it was made to transform into the snake. But that bit was very small, just a breath or two. No, wings mostly. Burning black.”

He pressed his lips to the centre of Crowley’s chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he said into his skin.

“Hey,” he cooed, tangling his fingers in those pale curls so he could tug him up, looking him in the eye. “You didn’t do anything to make me Fall. And it was a very long time ago. It doesn’t matter, not now. I have you now, more than I had you before I mean. And…and if I hadn’t Fallen…well, maybe we wouldn’t have this.”

Aziraphale smiled in that dreamy way he had when Crowley had said or done something that truly pleased him, and leaned in, kissing him.

Of course, one kiss led to two and then a whole slew of them, the two of them tangling up in each others limbs and caressing skin.

After a while of kissing (it was enormous fun to chase Aziraphale’s tongue back and forth between their mouths), the angel sat up, and they discovered that he was straddling the demon.

“Oh,” Aziraphale murmured, wriggling a little to get comfortable. “This is…different.”

“Yup. Good different?” he asked, caressing those plush hips.

“I…I like it.”

“Better than pears?”

“Oh, most certainly!” he said with a smile. He trailed his fingertips over Crowley’s chest. “Perhaps another lesson?”

“Such a diligent student I’ve found,” he teased, toying with a nipple and making him shiver. “So dedicated.”

“I do love to learn,” he gasped as Crowley sat up and began kissing his neck. His head fell back and Crowley used it as an opportunity to lavish his Adam’s apple with kisses. “And…oh, my…you’re such…an excellent…oh…excellent teacher.”

Crowley revelled in their banter, in the way Aziraphale gasped and squirmed, the way his hands had found his hair again. He’d never been one for having his hair played with but with Aziraphale it was incredible.

“What are you in the mood for?” he asked once he’d pulled back. “Me in you? You in me? Something different?”

“You in me again, but like this, with me here.”

A quick miracle prepared Aziraphale once more and then the redhead laid back, sweeping his hands up and down his sides before skimming them along his arms and taking his hands. He pressed a kiss to his wrist.

“All yours.”

“Mmmm,” Aziraphale hummed, eyes raking over the thin body beneath him. “All mine.”

He released a hand to reach between his own legs, taking Crowley in hand and lining up. It took him a few tries to get it right, and then he was sliding down down down, taking more and more, until the entire length was sheathed inside him and he groaned.

“Feels so good,” he moaned, joining their hands. “Like…”

“Like we were meant to do this?”

“Precisely. Oh, do move, darling.”

“You’re in the driver’s seat, love. You move.”

It was adorable, the way he blinked in surprise.

“Oh. Of course! How foolish of me.” He nibbled at his lower lip for a second. “I don’t know how.”

Crowley smiled and released his hands, placing them on his chest, before he took hold of his hips and gently guided him.

“Like this, angel,” he said. “Start slow, get used to it all. Give your body a chance to stretch and that. There we go. See, you’re getting it.”

“It feels so good,” he whimpered. “So good. Crowley.”

“I know. Keep going, angel, you’re okay. Faster when you want to. Just experiment. Find what you like. I’m right here with you.”

Crowley laid back and enjoyed the show his angel unknowingly put on for him. He found a rhythm that worked for him and settled into it, moving with more confidence, biting his lower lip as he let the feel of it all sweep over him. He was panting, letting out little gasps and groans, gripping at Crowley’s wrists.

Fuck, but he was beautiful. All that pale biteable skin, those flushed pretty pink nipples, the arch of his neck as his head fell back. Crowley imagined that this was what true worship was, true devotion. He’d do anything for his angel, anything at all. If Aziraphale wanted him to jump into a pool of holy water, he’d do it with a song in his heart.

The heat around him was delicious. The way Aziraphale moved, the way he felt inside. Eventually, Crowley could take no more and shoved himself up, wrapping his arms around him and taking a nipple between his teeth.

“Oh!” His wings popped out in his surprise and trailed out behind him, sweeping over Crowley’s legs.

“Love you, angel,” he murmured into his skin, and Aziraphale fell still, stroking his hair and looking down on him.

“I do love you, my dear one,” he said softly, and Crowley’s eyes prickled.

It was a well-known fact amongst the damned and divine that demons couldn’t cry. The capacity to feel something deeply enough to bring tears had been burned out along with their angelic grace.

But Crowley, unknown to others, had always been able to. He didn’t cry often; it took a lot to get him to that point. But the absolute love in Aziraphale’s eyes and touch were enough.

“Stay with me,” he begged, stroking his back. “Please. Aziraphale. Please…don’t…”

“Hush,” he soothed, giving a gentle kiss. “I am yours,” he whispered, pressing their foreheads together and using his thumbs to wipe away his tears. “And you? You are mine. I’ll not lose what took me so long to have. I will love you always, my demon. My Crowley. I always have loved you. And I always will. I will be here with you for eternity.”

With a groan, Crowley joined their mouths and flipped them, reaching down to hike up one of Aziraphale’s knees so he had more room, and began to thrust into him hard. The blond wrapped his arms around his shoulders, gasping at it, trying to push back against the thrusts.

His wings burst forth and Aziraphale immediately found the softer black feathers at the base of them, gripping tight in a desperate attempt to find something solid to cling to.

Some dim part of him knew he was being too rough. It was only Aziraphale’s second time, he should be softer with him, but he couldn’t ease off, couldn’t slow down. He had to have him, had to join with him.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale gasped. “Please!”

“Sorry,” he moaned, but he just couldn’t stop. “Sorry. I know…sorry…”

“More!” he begged, and Crowley almost lost it there and then.

So much for too rough. His lips found the sweet curve of Aziraphale’s neck, teeth nipping, and his hands held him closer, one under his shoulder and the other gripping his thigh.

The sounds Aziraphale made under him! It was intoxicating. Hearing his normally ruffled but relatively put together angel lose control, to see this straitlaced being give in to such physicality was almost too much to take.

And then Aziraphale found a way to let go of one wing root and slide that hand down, over the line of his spine (which caused its own set of shivers), until he could grasp one arse cheek and squeeze.

It swept through him, burning along every nerve in a completely different way than hellfire. It didn’t hurt, but was so damn intense it might as well have. He was faintly aware, in the edges of his consciousness, that Aziraphale was touching himself, had worked a hand between them to grasp and squeeze and stroke until there was wet heat on his stomach and the angel shuddering and gasping beneath him.

He floated in a pleasant haze of post-orgasmic euphoria for a while, until he could raise his head and look down at the contented being beneath him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with a kiss to one cheekbone. “Lost it a bit there.”

“Not to worry,” Aziraphale soothed, smoothing the feathers he’d been playing with until Crowley came back to him. “I wasn’t left wanting.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmmm. It was quite exciting, seeing you so overcome. Oh!”

Crowley had shifted and pulled out of him, making him squirm.

“Sorry, angel.”

“Quite alright. Just a little…sensitive…down there,” he promised. “Could you…a little clean up perhaps?”

Crowley snapped his fingers for a quick miracle and the stickiness disappeared. Crowley smirked as he realised the angel still had a hand on his backside. He flexed it and the angel blushed.

“It’s a very nice posterior,” Aziraphale said.

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I like it very much.”

“I hope you know that I’ve got a fondness for your arse too.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Love watching it jiggle when you walk.”

“Oh, my. That’s…”

Crowley proved his point by slithering down the bed and pushing his legs open and up, nibbling at one full cheek and then the other, making Aziraphale squirm.

“Crowley!” he gasped.

“Mmmm?”

“I…oh!”

The demon smirked as he realised the angel was hard again, and he made short work of using his lack of gag reflex to swallow him down, sucking hard as he could as Aziraphale jerked beneath him. He gripped his plush hips and urged him on, letting him thrust as hard as he wanted.

Aziraphale’s hands once more buried themselves in his hair, gripping tight.

[Go on, angel,] he whispered into his mind. [I want you to.]

They had only used the trick once, to communicate when they had switched places. It took a lot of energy to do and could leave a nasty aftertaste (and migraine), so they usually refrained. But he was flying high after his orgasm, so he felt it was appropriate to use it just this once.

It did the trick, because Aziraphale threw his head back and let go of all ideas of being proper. He thrust hard and wild, taking everything Crowley wanted to give. He gripped Crowley’s hair, pulling hard as he gasped and screamed, until he tumbled over the edge, right down Crowley’s throat.

The demon swallowed what he was given and used his flexible tongue to clean his lover up before he released him and crawled up the bed, flopping beside him and pulling him into his arms.

“Flbgt.”

“Right you are, angel.”

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Aziraphale juggled his bags as he searched for his keys.

He’d had a note through the door that he had a package waiting for him in the local post office, and he’d decided that the weather was nice enough for a nice walk. On the way back, he’d popped into the bakery and the corner shop, and he’d purchased more than he had intended, but the bakery always looked so very enticing. And the traditional sweet shop, with all their jars of colourful delights.

The package was rather large, but the return address showed it was from Anathema, so he was rather excited by it.

He managed to squeeze his way in the door and hang up his keys before shuffling into the kitchen.

“Crowley?” he called gently. He’d left the demon sleeping with a little note on the pillow as to where he’d gone. “Are you awake, dearest?”

“Yeah, I’m up,” Crowley replied. “In the living room.”

Aziraphale plonked his shopping on the counter (putting a few things that needed to be in the fridge away) before hefting his package and wandering to find him.

“Anathema sent me a package,” he said, peeling off the tape. “Oh, she’s sent me a book! A few books! How delightful! And she’s included a few things for you and your garden. Oh. Are you quite alright?”

“Yeah, fine,” he gritted out.

He was in only his boxers, wriggling around on his back. The skin of his legs and arms were patchy and his chest was quite pink, and the carpet was littered with little discarded curls of what looked like paper.

“It’s…it’s a thing,” he ground out, wriggling again. “A snake type thing.”

“A snake type…oh!” He set the box on the coffee table and squatted down, picking up one of the discarded pieces. “I didn’t know you shedded. How often do you?”

“Once, maybe twice a century. It’s a bastard this time,” he said.

“How so?”

“It doesn’t want to come off.”

“Oh. Is it perhaps easier in snake form?”

“No, not really. You’d think so, but it’s always harder. Shouldn’t be, but I guess it’s just one of the wonderful conditions of my Fall.”

“Can I be a help?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I just…just need to get it off!” he growled.

Aziraphale had, once upon a time, studied snakes. It was just another of his interests over the years.

“Perhaps a soak in the bath would help,” he suggested. “Some reptiles find it difficult to shed if they’re dehydrated. A little moisture might help slough off the shed.”

Crowley stared at him for a moment before he rolled fluidly to his feet and moved to the door.

“Do you need my help, darling?”

“No. No, I’m fine. No need for you to trouble yourself, angel,” he assured as he sped from the room.

“Very well!” he called after him. “Just give a shout if you change your mind!”

“Yeah, sure!”

“Hmmm. Oh, well. Maybe it’s a private thing, like when the humans use the toilet.”

He cleaned away the discarded skin and happily settled into an armchair, whiling away two hours examining the three rare books Anathema had sent for him. One had particularly beautiful illuminated pages.

“Aziraphale?”

He set aside the book and wandered to the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes?”

“I…um…I could use…a little…help?”

The celestial wasted no time in making his way up and to the bathroom, where a miserable Crowley was sat in the tub.

“I just…it won’t…angel, help.”

Aziraphale pressed a kiss to his damp hair. “Of course, my love. What do I do?”

“I can’t get my back. I’ve tried everything, everything! Even that loofah on a stick that takes ten layers of skin off. Nothing works!” he moaned as Aziraphale rolled up his sleeves.

“Right,” he said, kneeling on the fluffy mat. “Let’s take a look at you then. Turn for me, dearest. Let me see what I’m up against.”

Crowley slid so his back was to him and Aziraphale moaned in sympathy.

“Oh, my poor demon. You’ve made yourself bleed a bit. Poor thing.” He wet his hands and stroked them over the patches. “I see now. Sit tight.”

He got to his feet and rummaged in the bathroom cabinet before he returned to his spot and poured the lotion he’d retrieved into his cupped palm. He warmed it a little before beginning to smooth it over Crowley’s back, watching as it sunk almost immediately into the dried shed.

Crowley moaned in relief as the tight itching finally began to ease.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, when Aziraphale was on his tenth application.

“What on earth for?”

“You shouldn’t have to do this.”

“Oh, nonsense. You’re my lover. Why wouldn’t I want to help you when you need it?”

“Because…because it…”

Aziraphale pressed his lips to his shoulder. “There is nothing wrong about any part of you,” he murmured into his skin. “Nothing at all. I chose to be with you, come hell or heaven or anything in-between. We are our own side, you and I, and that is my decision. Do you think I would have given myself to you, let you kiss me and touch me and be within me if I had any reservations about you? You are mine, and I think you are perfect, just the way you are, shedding and all.”

Crowley wiped at his face and then curled up his knees, resting his head on them.

“I love you, angel. So fucking much.”

“And I love you. Now, I think you’re moistened enough. Shall I try peeling this off then?”

Crowley nodded.

“Right. Hmmm. Oh, I see.”

He began to scratch at his back, working up an edge, until there was enough to grab, and then he began to slowly peel it off. He pulled with one hand and used the other to smooth yet more moisturiser on the new skin underneath. Crowley began to moan as the never-ending itch finally, blessedly, began to cease, all under gentle hands.

“’s nice, angel,” he slurred.

“Is it? Good. Oh, I am glad. I’ve got about half of it,” he said, pausing to replenish the moisturiser, and then continuing to remove it.

It took about an hour to strip his back, and by the time Aziraphale was finished Crowley was a vaguely human shaped pile of goo.

“I bet you can peel an apple in one strip,” he garbled.

“I can as it happens.”

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Lucifer growled as his lair was infiltrated.

“Who dares?” he hissed, his skin giving off even more sulphuric smoke.

“Perhaps if you were kinder to your Mother, she would visit you more often.”

“Ah, bugger.”

God smiled at Her wayward son. It wasn’t often She made Herself an earthly form, it was such a tedious process, but to visit hell it was necessary. To anyone looking in, She looked rather ordinary. Brown hair, dark eyes, average height and build for a woman who appeared in Her mid-forties, but if anyone were to ask later, no one would remember what She looked like at all.

She wandered, looking around at the trinkets he collected, including a rather impressive amount of bottlecaps.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“Because I think both of us have tortured them enough,” She said serenely. “They don’t deserve what’s been done to them. And you know it as well as I do.”

“He chose to follow me.”

“He followed his brother, his older brother, who was supposed to care for him. I trusted you with your brothers and sisters and look what you did with it.”

“Wasn’t my fault,” he mumbled sulkily. “You make me like this.”

“I did not make you a selfish boy who didn’t care who he hurt.”

“Fine! I did that on my own! And fine! He didn’t deserve to Fall. But he did, and it’s done. What am I supposed to do about it?”

“They found each other again.”

“Well I knew that! They were both with Adam, and my demons have shown me all the evidence that they’ve been hanging around together since Eden.”

“No, I mean they have truly found one another.”

He sat up and stared at Her for a moment. “You mean…?”

“Yes.”

“Well. That changes things. I thought they wouldn’t…after it all happened. I thought you’d taken those memories.”

“I did. But they found their way to each other regardless.”

“So, what happens now?”

“I’ve come to make an agreement. For their sakes, to be some small apology for what happened. You and I will agree that neither of our sides will seek them out. They will be left alone, on earth, without trouble from my angels or your demons.”

He threw himself to his feet and paced, throwing angry glares at Her every now and then.

“They deserve to know,” he growled. “Those memories…they deserve to have them back.”

“They will. I shall send Gabriel to deliver them.”

“Gabriel? He’s the worst of your lot! And you took his memories too! How can you possibly think you can trust him to do anything?!”

“Because whatever else he may be, Gabriel is loyal to my wishes. I will give him this task personally. He will obey.”

“Rub it in.”

“Oh, Lucifer,” She sighed, crossing to him and stroking his hair, making him close his eyes in shame under Her gaze. “I wish you would have listened, done as I asked.”

“Well, I didn’t. Is that all you came for?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can go. My side will stay away from them, and so will yours. Agreed. Thank you for the visit, now get out.”

She pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

“I do love you still.”

And then She was gone, and Lucifer was calling for his Prince, his skin burning where his Mother had touched him.

He welcomed the burn.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

It took time, as most of their relationship had, but they eventually settled into the new physical aspect of their partnership. A few times a week Aziraphale would unfurl his wings and Crowley would preen him, or Crowley would be treated to a full body moisturising session. These grooming sessions usually led to sex, and Crowley was absolutely enchanted by the way Aziraphale enjoyed his pleasure.

The gasps he made, as if he truly needed air for his corporation. The sounds he made, as if he just couldn’t help himself. The way he moved, the way he gripped at Crowley. When he had Aziraphale touching him, kissing him, riding him…he couldn’t describe how incredible it was.

The summer had been blissful, full of talking (which wasn’t Crowley’s favourite pastime but it was entirely necessary) and making love and exploring just what felt best. Aziraphale hadn’t topped him yet, but he didn’t mind too much. It was absolutely delightful to sink into his body, to wring absolute pleasure from him, to watch him come undone.

The summer was slowly drawing to a close and Crowley happily settled behind the wheel to drive to Tadfield. Anathema had invited Aziraphale to her birthday celebration. (Crowley liked to pretend that he hadn’t been invited and was just crashing. It made his demonic side so very happy to think of gate-crashing.)

Aziraphale happily hummed along to Queen and nibbled on sweets as Crowley sped through the countryside. For once he didn’t baulk at the speed, which might have had something to do with Crowley keeping (sort of) to the speed limits. It was a rather leisurely drive, made very pleasant by the breeze from the open windows and the fact that Aziraphale kept feeding him sweeties.

He pulled up outside the little cottage and rummaged in the glovebox for glasses while Aziraphale got out. The angel was barely on his feet before he was tackled by little people crying out “Uncle Azzy!”

“Oh, hello my lovelies!” he cooed, stroking their hair and hugging them close.

Over the year and bit, Aziraphale had used his time to have video calls with Adam and the Them, talking at least once a week and sending them gifts for their birthdays and Christmas. As a result, they absolutely adored the angel (as Crowley suspected everyone who ever met him did).

“Didn’t know the sprouts would be here,” Crowley said as he stood.

“Anathema and Newt said we should come,” Adam said, rounding the car to hug Crowley.

The demon startled, looking down at the child willingly hugging him, before he hugged back.

“There you are!” Anathema cried as she emerged into the sunlit front path. “You made good time.”

“Would have been quicker if Crowley had been his usual self behind the wheel,” Aziraphale said, kissing her cheek. “But he was rather relaxed on the drive.”

“I hope you like barbecue,” Newt said from behind her, standing awkwardly.

“Absolutely love it. Crowley? Darling, you like barbecue, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” the redhead said, Adam finally stepping back. “Come on, you can help me in the boot.”

He was surrounded by a gaggle of children, all wanting to carry something in. Gifts, boxes of treats, the cake, and the box of bottles were handed off and they happily marched through the cottage to the garden.

He locked up the car and trailed them all in, where there was a collection of parents sitting about, lounging and enjoying cold drinks as a few fathers crowded around the barbecue trying to light it. Dog was tottering about, exploring all the things he could smell, and took an immediate shine to Crowley, sitting obediently at his feet and looking up at him adoringly.

“Be a sweetheart and help them out?” Anathema asked Crowley, a hand on his arm. “They seem to be having a little trouble with the flames.”

“Not too big, dear,” Aziraphale warned. “It only needs to cook the food, not damn souls.”

“Right oh.”

The men happily accepted him into the huddle and within minutes he had the pit lit, which made them all cheer and clap him on the back. Dog had happily followed him and waited patiently for whatever the demon wanted to give him. Aziraphale suspected the hellhound could smell hell on his lover and it reminded him of home.

“So…” Anathema began as she and Aziraphale wandered off to the table holding the drinks. “I take it that you two finally got into it?”

“We’re very happy,” he said with a smile. He set about pouring he and Crowley drinks, and then he happily let Adam carry Crowley’s glass of wine off to him. Dog was blissfully happy that Crowley had crouched down to pet him and his little tail was wagging up a storm.

“Is he…I have to ask, because the curiosity is killing me. What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“The sex!” she said in a quiet excited tone. “I mean, you’re sleeping with a demon. Is he kinky in bed?”

“Anathema!”

“Oh, come on. You’re as old as dirt, you can’t possibly be shocked by the shamelessness of a witch.”

“Fair point. I…I’m really not sure how to answer that. You should probably ask him.”

“Like he’d tell me!”

“He probably would.”

She stared across the lawn to the demon for a moment before he looked up and grinned, making his way over, Dog following him devotedly. Aziraphale let Newt pull him into conversation about some of the books Anathema had sent the angel over the last few months. The witch met the demon a little way away.

“I can see him blushing from the fire,” he smirked.

“For someone so very old, you’d think he’d be less shockable.”

“Eh, it’s an angel thing. All repressed, they are. What did you ask him?”

“If you’re kinky in bed.”

“Ah. No wonder he blushed. Well, no, not particularly. All a bit vanilla, really. Very satisfactory, no complaints.”

She peered at him. “Do you want it to be a bit kinky?”

He chuckled and scooped Dog up to scratch him behind the ear. Dog found this to be a delightful turn of events. “No, not really. I know what I am, but I’m not really like the rest of them. Never really gone in for the whips and chains bit. And honestly, don’t particularly fancy restricting him when we get into it, or causing pain. Nah, never been a fan of that myself. Why? Are you looking for tips?”

She felt herself flush. “Maybe…” she admitted. “I mean, it’s good. It’s really good. But I just…Newt can be so timid. Sometimes you just want something a little wild, you know?”

“Mmmm. Have you talked to him about it?”

“Oh, that’s a whole different set of issues. He’s all English and repressed.”

“Maybe you should just pull out some feathers and lace and go at him. Give him…a visual.”

She giggled and they decided to shelve the conversation for later as Adam’s mum approached.

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you,” she said. “Deirdre Young.”

“Ah, Adam’s mum. I’m Crowley. My partner is Aziraphale,” he said, shaking her hand and motioning across to the angel, who was happily chattering away with young Pepper about the misogynistic undertones of classic literature.

“Oh, the nice man my son calls Uncle Azzy.”

“The very same.”

“I must say, I don’t quite understand how the two became friends.”

“Oh, it’s an Aziraphale thing. He just attracts people. I think it was a kids book fair or something like that. He and Adam started talking about comic books…well, I think it was comics, and they hit it off. Honestly, he’s an overgrown kid sometimes. And when it comes to books, he just runs with it.”

“Oh, that’s what Pepper told me, that Aziraphale loves to read and babble about books. The children honestly talk about him as if he hung the moon. Very sweet. Do you have children?”

“No, not for us. Happy to watch over them for a while, I was a nanny for a few years, but not any of our own.”

“A nanny?” asked Wensleydale’s father as he wandered over, beer in hand.

“Yeah. Private family, American diplomat. Sweet boy. Though, obviously not that sweet because I packed it in,” he joked. “Aziraphale was the gardener at the time.”

“Is that how you met then?”

“Oh no, we’ve known each other forever. The relationship, that’s a new thing. But we’ve dipped in and out of each other’s lives over the years.”

Aziraphale grinned at the conversation he was eavesdropping. Crowley was wonderfully vague.

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The day had been wonderful. The weather beautifully warm but not too hot, the drinks flowing, the kids relatively well behaved (and all attracted to Aziraphale and Crowley like moths to a flame), and even Crowley had eaten some of the barbecue. Dog had benefited greatly from being so close to Crowley, as the demon kept feeding him and the majority of Crowley’s plate ended up in the canine’s stomach. He was rather sluggish by the time Adam was ready to take him home.

The parents and kids left as the sky turned rosy, leaving Anathema and Newt with the angel and demon. Crowley abandoned his glasses and Aziraphale was down to just his shirt and slacks, bare toes wiggling in the grass. They broke out the harder alcohol and Newt was foolish enough to challenge Aziraphale to a game of Scrabble.

“MUZJIKS is not a word, no way is that a word!” Newt complained.

“By all means, challenge away,” Aziraphale said serenely, holding out his glass for Crowley to refill.

Newt scrambled for the dictionary and then groaned.

“Muzjiks. It’s a bloody word.”

“Meaning?” Anathema asked, smirking over from her game of chess with Crowley. He was being rather nice, all things considered, and only making her lose by a little bit.

“Russian peasant,” Crowley supplied. “They were a miserable lot.”

“No food, I’d be miserable too,” Aziraphale agreed. “And it gives me…128. Would you like to continue playing, Newt?”

“No, I’m done. I give up. I’m not playing things with you anymore. It’s not fun to lose all the time.”

“You’d think you would have learnt the last time,” Crowley said. “I did.”

“Obviously, I’m an idiot.”

The witch smiled and pulled him in for a soft kiss.

“I am curious about something,” she said as they cleared the games away.

“Still more curiosity,” Crowley teased. “Angel, you’re dating the wrong person. She’s obviously your other half. Ask away.”

“I’m kind of wondering about you being a snake. How does that work? Like, do your organs all change? Wait, do you even have organs?”

Crowley found this absolutely hilarious and fell off his chair through laughing so hard.

“I’ve eaten all that barbecue and drunk all this booze and you wonder if I have organs!” he wheezed.

“It’s a valid question,” Aziraphale countered. “I mean, it’s not like we need to use the bathroom like humans.”

“But I do have a stomach.”

“True. I like your snakey self,” he mused dreamily, looking on his lover fondly. “Such a lovely danger noodle.”

“Biased feather-brain.”

“Wait. You can turn into it?” Newt squeaked. “Like…just pop! And you’re a snake?”

“Pretty much, but without the pop,” he admitted. He looked around and snapped his fingers, ensuring he wouldn’t be seen by anyone passing by. “Wanna see?”

Aziraphale giggled and clapped, nodding happily.

“Sure, if you’re okay with it,” Anathema said.

“Uhhh…okay,” Newt agreed uncertainly.

In moments, Crowley the man had morphed into Crowley the snake, and he swayed a little. He had drunk an awful lot, after all. He unsteadily slithered his way across the grass, exploring it with his flickering tongue, before making his way to Aziraphale and laying his head on his thigh. Aziraphale happily set to petting him.

“Beautiful,” Anathema breathed. “May I?”

“Ssssure,” he hissed.

She put down her glass and slid to the ground, crawling over so she could run a gentle hand along his flank.

“I always thought snakes were cold,” she mused, tracing where the black of him met the red. “You’re very warm.”

“Alwayssssss. Not a regular sssssnake. I run hot, like Assssssiraphale.”

“What’s it like?” Newt wondered. “I mean, you’re on your belly. Can’t be that comfortable.”

“Not on gravel,” he agreed. “And ssssand is a pain. But the grassssssss isssss nicccccce. Tickly.”

“Lovely snek,” Aziraphale murmured and the serpent raised himself enough to boop their noses together.

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Crowley luxuriated in the pleasure coursing through him, all emanating from Aziraphale’s lips and hands doing a little exploration of his corporation.

The angel had decided it was high time he became very well acquainted with all the ways Crowley enjoyed being touched, and set about kissing and licking and stroking his way across his demon’s pale form.

So far, the two of them had been so caught up in the pleasure they could create with an act of penetration they hadn’t been interested in changing things up. But tonight Aziraphale had decided he wanted to have more.

Over the millennia, Crowley had witnessed how very focussed Aziraphale could become when he wanted to know things. When he decided a subject was worth closer examination, he became completely focussed on it.

Crowley was his new subject, and his examination was very close indeed.

“Angel,” he moaned.

Aziraphale’s tongue was doing the most delightful things to his nipples, and his wonderful hands were teasing the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, and it was all so damn good. How had he ever lived so long without this? How had he managed to spend all that time with his angel and not been touched by him?

He shifted restlessly, wanting to touch back but wanting to luxuriate too. He gripped at the sheets, arching his back to entice the blond to move to the other nipple. Which he did, making Crowley’s toes curl.

“Crowley? You alright, darling?”

“I am absolutely tikety boo, Angel,” he hummed, smiling into the kiss he was given.

“Oh, good. You will tell me if it doesn’t feel good, won’t you? I want to make you feel as wonderful as you make me feel.”

“Absolutely. But really, you’re doing a smashing job.”

His smile was blinding, and the kiss he gave was breath-taking, and then he slid down the bed and took his erection into his mouth. That beautiful soft, hot, glorious mouth that sucked at him so perfectly, those plump lips that stretched around him so wonderfully.

Aziraphale did have a gag reflex (Crowley wondered why he would do that to himself but to each his own) but he pushed it as far as he could, taking more and more of the length. His hands made their way to his hips and urged him to move, to thrust and take the pleasure. Once Crowley had begun to thrust, he found his balls and toyed with them, pulling gently and rolling them, making Crowley gasp and cry out in enjoyment.

“’Zira…phale…mmmm….please…”

Aziraphale hummed around him and he jerked, coming sudden and hard, fingers gripping at blond curls in a desperate attempt to find anything solid to hold onto.

He floated in a sea of bliss until things came back to him, and he found Aziraphale cuddled up to him with his head on his chest, drawing idle patterns on his skin.

“Mmmm, that was amazing, angel,” he moaned, wrapping his arms around him and pressing a kiss to his curls.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it. I really think I’m starting to get the hang of all this. It’s really not that complicated really.”

“See? Told you that you’d pick it up.”

“Crowley…I was wondering…perhaps…if you can penetrate me…then surely it goes the other way.”

“Yeah, kind of how it works with two male forms. Though, most men who do this sort of thing have a general preference.”

“Preference?”

“Yeah. Some like to get screwed, some like to do the screwing, and some like both equally,” he said, stroking the wing draped over him. “Really, humans have found so many ways to get their rocks off. Impressive when you think of it.”

“Yes, quite impressive. So how does one know what their preference is? Are they born knowing? Or do they achieve the knowledge?”

“Experimentation,” he said. “They try things out and figure out what feels best to them.”

Aziraphale hummed in thought and then stroked a hand down to cup him.

“Could I…perhaps…penetrate you? Would that be something you might enjoy?” he asked, stroking the growing hardness, and Crowley grinned at him. “Or perhaps you already know your preference?”

“Generally, I prefer to be the one inside, but I can go either way. It all feels pretty damn good, under it all. Would you like to try it that way, Angel? Want to try being inside me?”

Aziraphale surged up and claimed his mouth, squeezing him as his tongue pushed past his lips, and he gave himself over to it, feeling how wonderful it was to be touched by Aziraphale once more.

In anticipation of what was to come, Crowley directed a miracle downstairs and prepared himself. Then he spread his legs and let Aziraphale settle between them.

“Not quite sure how to do this,” Aziraphale admitted, reaching down to squeeze Crowley’s thigh.

“It’s easy. Here,” he soothed, pressing a kiss to the end of his nose. He reached down between them and stroked the angel, making him gasp and bite his lip. He gave a tug and pulled him in, pressing the tip to his hole, and then laid his hand on his chest, where a human would have their heart. “Just push in, nice and steady. Oh, yes, that’s it, angel. That’s it. Keep going. Oh, that’s good.”

Aziraphale sank into him, pushing forwards until he was sheathed inside, and then he began to move. Crowley gripped at his shoulders, arching up to kiss him, hooking a thigh over his hip and pushing back against him. He cupped the back of his head, gripping his curls, his other hand finding the fluffy feathers at the base of his wings and holding on.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale moaned, losing himself in the pleasure of taking. He buried his face in Crowley’s neck, pressing his mouth to his skin.

They lost themselves in the pleasure, in the ebb and flow, and give and take. Crowley shifted until Aziraphale was caressing his prostate with every thrust, and Aziraphale gave in to all the earthly instincts he had, all of which were telling him to keep going, that what he was seeking was just there, so very close, if only he kept going.

It was so close, so very close, he could feel it in every inch of his corporation, feel how good it was going to be.

And then it was. It swept through him like a battering ram, taking everything he was and had ever been and condensing it into a single thought.

“Crowley!”

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It was so late that it could be considered early, and Crowley was so comfortable, all cuddled up with his angel and having a very nice dream of some wonderful wine.

But there was someone in his garden.

He begrudgingly eased from the bedding (and Aziraphale’s arms) and padded downstairs, using a quick miracle to give himself some boxers.

“You picked the wrong house to burgle,” he said.

He knew her, he knew he did. But he couldn’t place her.

“Not really able to figure me out, are you?” She said with a small smile. “I’ve known you your whole life.”

“Mother?” he asked quietly. “God?”

“Yes, my dear one,” She said, crossing the grass and stroking his cheek. “I am sorry that you had to suffer, my boy. I never wanted that to happen.”

“Wasn’t your fault. I messed it all up.”

“No, your brother did. You simply got caught up in all of it.”

He sniffed away the sudden lump in his throat.

“Why did you come? Are…are you going to take him back?”

“No. I’m not taking him from you. You and Aziraphale…I’m sorry it took so long for the two of you. It wasn’t in my plan. But Free Will makes plans a little unpredictable.”

“So…if you didn’t come to take him…”

“I came to give you this,” She said, reaching behind Her back and pulling out a sealed envelope. “I cannot give you much, not with things going the way they have. But I can give you this.”

He took it and stared at it for a moment. “What is it?”

“It is you. Who you were Before. I was going to send Gabriel with it, but I felt it would be best if I came myself. This is all the memory I took, everything you forgot. Now, I want to make it clear. If you open this envelope, all those memories will come back. But be sure you want to know. Once you do, I cannot take it again. Be sure you want to weigh what you have now against what you had then.” She shook her head. “Almost forgot. I’ve talked to Lucifer. Both sides will leave you and Aziraphale alone. Neither side will come for you. The two of you are free to live your lives here on Earth. You’ve earned some peace.”

“Thank you.” He stared between his Mother and the envelope, eyes flicking up and down. “But…can’t you tell me what to do?”

She smiled and stroked his hair.

“My sweet boy. I cannot make that choice, it is for you to make.”

“Can I talk to Aziraphale about it?”

“Of course. There is no rush, you can take all eternity to decide. But be sure before you take that step.”

She enfolded him in a hug and he melted into it, basking in the pure love She radiated.

Before he realised it, She had pressed a kiss to his cheek and stepped back, vanishing in a blink.

He stared at the envelope.

Did he want to know? After all this time, was it worth it? Would it change him? Would it change what he had with Aziraphale?

Was it worth it?

“Crowley?”

The angel was looking at him worriedly, bedsheet wrapped around himself.

“Darling, what are you doing?” he asked, coming close and pressing his hand to his chest. “Why are you out here in the middle of the night?”

“God was here.”

Aziraphale blinked in surprise.

“Yeah.”

Aziraphale led him inside and made the cocoa while he told him all that had been said, and then they sat there, staring at the envelope.

“I don’t know what to do,” Crowley admitted. “I’ve always wanted to know, always wondered. But…not I’m not sure I do want to know.”

Aziraphale cupped his cheek and kissed him.

“Don’t fret. We’ll put it away safe. And when you’re ready, you’ll know what to do. After all, we have all the time in the world.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, pulling the angel into his lap and nuzzling into his neck, feeling those heavenly hands stroking his hair. “We have forever. Forever with you. Sounds like paradise.”

Aziraphale didn’t argue, simply stood and took the envelope, Crowley following behind him. He opened the safe behind the painting in the living room and reverently laid it inside. Then he locked it, closed the painting, and turned to him.

“Now. It’s late. Would you like to go back to bed, darling?”

Crowley pulled him in, wrapping him in his arms and pressing a kiss to his neck.

“My sweet angel.”


End file.
